(800×600 105kb). I just can’t resist taking photos of water drops on plants! So here’s another one.

My mom is definitely better but moving very slowly and carefully. I’ve been doing all the chores, which gives me a new appreciation of all the things she normally does. Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and I did give her breakfast in bed (and lunch, and dinner) - it’s just sad that it had to be because she was hurting too much to get up.

Not much else to tell - it was a quiet monday, the phone never rang, which is a relief.

Just to flesh out this post, here’s another ancient bit of ‘prose’ I dug up out of my archives. I used it once to impress a potential employer of my creativity. I got the job, lasted 6 weeks as a galley slave and quit. This is all that remains of that experience:

Gather ye, my friends, and listen to the saga of the Heroes of Microbiology and how they defended the table of the library from domination by a rival clan.

It was a day as any other, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the sky was as blue as Mel Gibson’s eyes. But the Heroes of Microbiology were not out enjoying the day, they were toiling bravely through one or the other group assigment to prove to themselves, their parents, friends and lecturers that they understood the very, very small in the big picture.

Toiling space in the Library was divided up into tables and cubicles. The Heroes sat around a table, urgently discussing strategy or the possible measureable results of growing Pseudomonas fluorescens on milk agar. They were keeping their voices down so as not to disturb a stranger who sat at the same table.

The stranger, however, complained that the Heroes were in fact, disturbing him, claiming that the tables where there for individual use.

It was then that one of the Heroes, the one that went by the Hero Handle of “Leoni”, the Lion’s Cub, finally rose to the challenge. She informed that Stranger that the table had been granted to the Heroes by the Queen of that land, the Library Lady herself, and that individual strangers could use the cubicles if they so desired privacy.

The Stranger, out-classed, matched, and intimidated by this, left in a huff. The Heroes cheered, celebrated by taking a break and later returned to complete their task. The Lion’s Cub, having learned to roar, never let strangers into the territory again.

The end.

This is based partially on a true event. Names have been changed to protect the guilty